I've Got Your Back
by sydiy5bea
Summary: A friend is someone you can count on to have your back in a fight.
1. Chapter 1

I stand by my friend Oliver's locker, trying not to show how heavy my books are. It's the first week back to school after spring break and teachers are already loading us up with homework.

"...And I'm like if you don't want bugs, don't get live next to a pond," finishes Oliver. He works for his dad's landscaping business and sometimes he goes on these rants that are all just gibberish to me. But I listen. That's what friends do.

He slams his locker shut and we start down the hall towards Psychology (ew). Our laughing is cut short when a group of guys yells at us from across the hall. I don't know who they are, but Oliver turns pale. "Hey, Oliver. What's up?" says one. He's jacked and has got a full beard. How is he a high schooler? "Where's my math homework?"

"I-I'm not doing your homework any more. It was getting me in too much trouble."

"No, no, no, that's not how this works. You do my homework and I won't punch you. If you don't do my homework, what's to stop me from rattling your brain between your ears?"

Oliver gulps and a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. I frown and say, "Hey, lay off. Oliver doesn't have to do anything for you."

"Who's this? Oompa loompa?"

"Okay first of all, an oompa loompa is a fictional species not a single person and secondly, I'm not even that short."

The brute narrows his eyes. "You think you're smarter than me, huh?" He snaps his fingers and his lackeys surround me and Oliver. "Say it to my face."

I proceed to push my face into his face. "I'm. Not. Even. That. Short."

"You son of a bitch! Grab him." His friends push my books to the ground and grab my arms to restrain me. Oliver tries to protest, but he's shouldered out of the way. "Nobody talks to me like that, you shit eating rat."

 _Shit eating rat?_ His statement confuses me so I don't see his fist coming. I take the punch to the eye, and Oliver takes off down the hall, probably for help. The goons continue to hold my arms. I use them as leverage and pick my feet up off the ground to kick the guy in the nuts. He doubles over in pain. The guys holding me loosen their grip in surprise, so I use the distraction to swing one into the lead douche and punch the other one in the face. I'm not feeling very creative. All three lay on the ground, trapped under the third guy (I must have knocked him out). "Mr. Drake!" gasps a voice behind me.

I turn around and whisper, "Oh crap."

"My office! Now!" orders Mrs. Halifax, the school principle.

Oliver winces behind her and mouths, "Sorry."

* * *

I slouch in my seat across from Mrs. Halifax, Jason Collie (the lead goon) and his parents. They called Sully and he's on the way. I'm in so much trouble.

It's silent until the door opens behind me. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Drake," Mrs. Halifax greets.

"Oh, no, I'm not Mr. Drake, I'm Mr. Sullivan. He's adopted." Sully sits beside me. I feel his stare and sink lower in my seat. I'm in _soooooooooo_ much trouble.

"Okay then, Mr. Sullivan, your son was involved in a fight with three other students. One is with the nurse checking for a concussion, one is in the hospital with a definite concussion, and Mr. Jason Collie will be screened for neck injuries after this meeting. Mr. Nathan Drake received only a bruise. The most probable next step would be a five day suspension for Mr. Drake."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sully interjects. "Why are you pointing your finger at my kid? Did you even ask who started it?"

"Yeah, I didn't start the fight," I say. "I was defending my friend."

"Do not talk out of turn, Mr. Drake," Mrs. Halifax warns. "Jason, what's your take?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" his mother says. "That little rat hurt my baby and got away with only a scratch. We're suing if Jason has neck problems."

"No, that's not how this works," Sully says. "Just because Nate got away with only a bruise doesn't mean he's at fault. It means he won." I glance at Sully. He's not really helping my case. "I have yet to hear who threw the first punch and I'm willing to bet it wasn't Nate."

"Jason?" Mrs. Halifax asks.

"Uh, well-" he starts, but his father interrupts.

"You actually think a boy of his standing would throw the first punch, Mr. Sullivan?"

"This has nothing to do with 'standings'. Let your son talk," Sully orders.

"You'd talk to me that way when I'm suing you for thousands of dollars?"

"You don't think I could sue you, too?"

 _Please stop_ , I think to myself. _We're in enough financial trouble as it is. Just let me get suspended._

"I don't think you would, sir."

"Try me," Sully growls.

"Okay, let's just, uh, get back on topic, please," Mrs. Halifax says, desperately trying to defuse the situation. "Jason, you were saying?"

"H-he attacked us first," he claims, glaring at me.

"No, I didn't! He did!" I explode.

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you-"

"Boys!" Mrs. Halifax barks. We stop and shoot each other menacing looks. "Who is telling the truth?"

"I am!" we both exclaim, pointing to ourselves.

"Who are you going to believe?" Jason's mother asks, "The orphan or the family who could sue your school for everything it's worth?"

"Ma'am, I-" the principal attempts to corral the conversation.

"That boy was bullying my kid and his friend. _I_ will sue the school for everything it's worth if you suspend my boy," Sully says.

"Mr. Sullivan-" Mrs. Halifax tries again.

"My son would never bully another student. How dare you-"

"I dare because your son hit my son! Nate was exercising his second amendment rights!"

"The right to bear arms?" Mrs. Halifax wonders.

"No, the right to defend yourself," Sully explains.

"Sully, that's not-" I try to correct him.

"Whatever, I was making a point. He was defending himself. I refuse to believe anything different."

I look over at him. I wasn't expecting him to take my side. Nobody ever takes my side.

"Let's all just take a break. We'll let Jason get his screening and meet again tomorrow. I'll ask around for witnesses, since nobody here will fess up," states Mrs. Halifax.

We file out of the school without a word. Once we're separated from the Collies, Sully leans over and whispers, "Pretend like I'm busting your ass."

I have enough time to give him a confused look before he completely goes off on me. It's not hard to pretend to be ashamed when your face is already beet red from embarrassment. Most of what he's saying is gibberish, but it seems real. Once we pull out of the parking lot, he cracks a smile and pats me on the back. "Nice job, kid."

I put my head in my hands. "I'm so confused."

"There's nothing to be confused about. You were awesome! I can't believe you knocked out a kid in one punch. That is unbelievable!"

"So you're not mad?"

"Did you not hear me defending you back there? I'm not gonna be mad if you do the right thing."

Huh. That's a first.

"One more question. Are you really gonna sue Mr. Collie?"

"Psh, no," he laughs. "His lawyers would tear me a new one. I just like to rile up rich people. I really hate rich people."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm 18 years old, ya know. I can handle myself."

Sully rolls his eyes and hands me a walkie-talkie. "That's exactly why you're staying in the car. You're not used to those long legs yet."

"But-"

"No buts. Stay in the car. I'll call you if I need anything. Otherwise, we keep radio silence. Okay?"

"Fine," I huff. "But you're making a huge mistake."

"Mm hm. See you on the flip side, kid."

And with that, he's gone. I gloomily watch him stroll through the front doors as if he were any ordinary paying patron of the museum. If there's one thing Sully's good at, it's acting casual. Those ugly shirts he's so fond of throw security off his scent.

Five minutes later, I'm about to kick my feet up onto the dashboard (what Sully doesn't know won't kill him), when a mysterious lady stalks into the building. "What do we have here?" I ask myself, squinting in an attempt to get a read on her face. She turns her head my way for a split second, but it's enough for me to recognize her. "Hanna Puttel? What's she doing here?" This can't be a coincidence. There's no such thing in our line of work. "Shit, I gotta warn Sully." I glance down at the walkie-talkie in my hand. I would call him, but he said radio silence. I'd have to leave the car to get to him.

I make the decision to go in after him. You can't take any chances with Puttel. "God, I'm gonna be in so much trouble for this..." I double check that my pistol is in its holster and loaded. I make my way out of the parking lot and around the side of the building. I can't exactly walk through the front door with a pistol strapped to me. I make short work of the lock on the employee entrance. I cautiously peek inside and find the room pitch dark.

"Sully!" I hiss, wanting to find him but also not wanting Puttel to hear me. "Sully, you in here?"

I open the door wide enough for me to walk through, then shut it behind me quietly. I feel my way to the wall and grope for a light switch. My spine stiffens when the lights flick on. I have just enough time to realize I wasn't the first to find the switch when she says, "Well, hello there, little one."

I turn around stiffly and nod to my opponent. "Miss Puttel."

"I should have known. Where ever Sullivan goes, the brat follows."

My molars gnash in anger.

"Where's your friend?"

I stay silent and do my best to stare her down.

"You don't even know, do you? He left you behind because he was afraid you'd screw it up. Isn't that right?"

"Shut up," I growl, trying my damnedest to look more intimidating as she stalks forward.

Puttel giggles while sliding her pistol out of her holster. "Keep it up, little one. It's adorable. Now I know why Sullivan keeps you around. You're quite the source of entertainment."

I slide my right foot back and right hand towards my weapon in preparation for a fight. "This doesn't have to end in bloodshed," I say, keeping a brave face.

My blood curls as her smile simple widens. "You're absolutely right." She holsters her gun and cracks her knuckles. "No blood means no mess."

I'm not totally prepared for her first punch. Puttel's a trained killer. Doubt begins to course through my body as I stumble back into a table. _I should have just stayed in the car. I'm gonna die in here._ I just barely dodge a roundhouse kick. _Then again, who would have Sully's back._

I gather my strength and hurl a thick binder from off the table behind me. I catch Puttel by surprise and nick her upper left arm. She pauses to study the scratch then turns back to me with seething eyes. "Whatever happened to no bloodshed, little one?"

I grab a chair and slide it across the floor into her legs, hoping to trip her so I can sneak around her out of the corner. And it almost worked, too. Almost...

She snags the collar of my shirt as I try to dart past her. "Little shit," she snarls, throwing me to the ground with surprising strength for someone of her size. I roll out of range then crawl under the table, trying to get to the other side. I'm forced to stop when a white hot pain streaks through my left leg. I scream and risk a glance behind me. Puttel is now slowly making her way around the table, looking for all the world like a cat teasing it's catch. She must have flipped the heavy, oak table using the chair I shoved at her as a lever. The edge of the table caught my leg at about mid-calf. "Son of a..." I pant under my breath, blinking away the involuntary tears.

"Aw, does that hurt?" Puttel pouts and crouches by my side. She places a cold hand on the site of injury and I bite my tongue to stifle another scream. "This does not look good, little one. But look on the bright side. It looks like a clean break. No bone sticking out of the skin. You're a very lucky little boy."

The table continues to press on my broken leg, never letting the pain dissipate. I suck in a breath between my teeth and clench my hands into fists.

I grunt as Puttel pulls my head off the floor by my hair. "You don't mind me taking a little break, do you?" She shakes my head no for me. "Good. Now, I'm gonna go find Sullivan, kill him, then I'll come back and play with you."

I glare through the blackness encroaching on the edges of my vision. "Bitch!" I seethe.

"Now, now, now," she chides. "That's no way to talk to a lady. Maybe I should let this table hold you for a little longer. That should teach you to hold your tongue."

"You obviously don't know me very well," I pant.

Puttel's lips press into an even wider smile. "I think we'll be getting to know each other very well by the end of the day." She drops my head without warning, causing me to crack my nose on the hard floor. "I'll be right back. This shouldn't take long at all. Be good, little one."

I force myself to keep quiet until I don't hear her footsteps any longer. Once she's gone, I let out a pitiful groan. _It hurts. Oh god, it hurts. So much pain. I think I'm gonna throw up. Nope, I'm about to pass out. Wait, no. It's definitely vomit._

 _Then swallow it and stand up! Sully needs you._

Gathering my resolve, I push my chest off the ground in an attempt to sit up. It doesn't happen. The world tips and pitches around me and I end up back on the floor.

 _Okay, plan B..._ I twist as far as I can to look at my trapped appendage. _If only I could lift the table... Don't get stuck on "what ifs". What can you do with the situation in front of you? Maybe I can pull my leg out from underneath._

My stomach does a flip at the prospect of more pain. More very, very intense pain. I think of Sully and mentally prepare myself for the agony that's sure to come. I plant my shaky hands on the ground and take a deep breath. I count myself off. "Three... two... one!"

The sound I make is not human. It sounds like an alien giving birth to a spawn that's bigger than itself. It sounds like a deranged bird trying to scare off the demons that only it can see. It sounds like elephant death metal.

I dry heave twice, curled in fetal position once my leg is free. At this point, it would probably hurt less to just chop the whole leg off. I try to keep the darkness at the edges of my vision at bay, but every time I move, I get closer to fainting. So slowly but surely, I make it to the door by pulling myself along with only my hands.

I sigh disheartenedly when the ceiling opens up above me and the wall shoots back for at least a mile. It's a fucking warehouse! How am I supposed to find Sully in here?

I get moving at the sound of voices ahead. I crawl faster than ever before, desperately hoping Puttel hasn't found him yet. If I'm quiet, I can catch her by surprise. The voices are steadily getting louder so that either means I'm getting closer or they're raising the volume. Or both.

I'm moving too fast. My vision is coming in and out of focus and even going completely dark for a few seconds. And the pain... Oh the pain... But I don't stop. I continue to swallow my screams and keep moving. Because I have to. Sully's in trouble. I have to.

Finally, my head pokes around the edge of an aisle and have two conflicting emotions. The good news is: I found Sully. The bad news is: so did Puttel.

I pause and take stock of the situation before doing anything to give away my position. They're already battered and bloody, so they must have already gone a few rounds. Now, they're padding around in a circle, catching their breaths. They both look equally worse off, but that could change in an instant. Puttel is a skilled assassin, but Sully's bigger and has a heavier punch. It's a much more balanced fight than what happened in the other room.

I startle slightly when Puttel unexpectedly jumps across the imaginary circle to swipe at Sully with a knife. He barely dodges and stumbles away, arms held protectively in front of his body.

I fumble with the pistol hanging on my side for a moment before propping myself up with one arm and aiming with the other. Like a camera focusing its lense, my vision zooms in and out. When it finally stabilizes, Sully is on the ground with a long cut running across his cheek down to his chin. Puttel is facing away from me, methodically cleaning her blade. She brandishes it with confidence, pulling her arm back in slow motion. The world stops and stays in focus just long enough for me to get a shot off.

The knife drops from her hand as my bullet hits her between the shoulder blades.

Sully flinches at both the gun shot and Puttel collapsing to the ground. His eyes dart around his surroundings for a few seconds before noticing me. "Nate!" He pushes himself up and runs over to me. "What are you doing here? You look pale as a ghost."

"I... I'm sorry," I whisper, right cheek laying against the ground. "She was gonna kill you so I... I tried to stop her..."

"I think you did a pretty bang up job of it," he chuckles. "You okay?"

"Uh... Yeah. Everything but my leg is fine."

"What's wrong with your leg?"

"It's... fucked up."

"Oh, please. It can't be that-" Sully abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"You were saying?" I ask rolling my eyes. It's about all I can manage right now.

"Jesus... That's... I-It's bent the wrong way..."

"I know." I whimper as Sully gingerly touches my leg to see for himself.

"Did she do this to you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she's lucky she's dead," he growls. "You don't wanna know what I'd do to her. I can't imagine the pain you're in."

Everything tenses as Sully attempts to lift me into a seated position. "No, no, no, please don't," I groan.

"I know, I know. This is going to be very painful, but we've gotta get you to a doctor. You're probably bleeding internally."

As soon as Sully lifts me off the ground, I go limp and shut my eyes, allowing myself to finally give into the darkness.

* * *

When I next open my eyes, I'm in a hospital gown with various leads attached to me. After a few more seconds, my casted, strung up left leg comes into focus.

"Took you long enough," Sully grunts beside me. Turning my head, I find him lounging back as far as he can in his chair, arms folded lazily over his chest. He does it to look casual. Cool and collected. But the tightness of his face and the balled up fists give him away.

"You were worried?" I smile cheekily to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Of course I was! This has to be the fifth time you've ended up passing out before we get to the hospital."

"Uh..." I count on my fingers. "Actually, I think this is the sixth."

Sully rolls his eyes. "Same difference. You're a goddamn magnet for injury, you know that? You're gonna give me a heart attack one day." He shakes his head, then his demeanor changes as he leans closer to my bed. "But seriously, are you alright, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm really sorry I left the car."

"I'm not," he scoffs. "I would have been dead if it weren't for you. For once, I'm thankful you disobeyed orders."

"But... the artifact..."

"...Is already sold. I was on the way out when Puttel caught me."

"So, the job wasn't a bust for once?"

"Well... Remember when you said your leg was 'fucked up'? The doctors agreed with you, and they're charging a pretty penny for all their work. We basically split even."

"I'm really sorry, Sully."

"Don't be. The artifact, the money... They don't matter. What matters is this-" He leans over and places a hand over my heart. "-this-" He puts his other hand over his own heart. "-and this." He lifts the hand off my chest and uses it to motion to the both of us. "Don't beat yourself up over something trivial. There's always more trinkets to plunder elsewhere. There's always more money to be made elsewhere."

I smile at the rarity that is Philosophical Sully. I smile even wider at how little time it takes for him to be replaced by Lady-Killer Sully in the presence of my very attractive nurse.


End file.
